Lyrics:
Chorus Coming down new sound
Should be thankful
Dirty riffs Dirty beats Dirty samples
Sell out show take the money
Then we cancel
like running backs
I done tops out of my car
Run him down when I hop out the car
They say Benz done gone too far
Max done em'
Buy the pack by the hunnid'
gon watch me eat
Eat (3x)
You gon watch me eat
Eat (3x)
You gon watch me eat
Who you know kill a track like me
Dish it out get it back
Make it stack
I Ain't going out like that
When God closes one door! He opens another knock knock on heaven's door this is what he does so you can get his
to fill this hole in my heart
And I got nowhere to go, when it all falls down
Got nowhere to run, when it all runs out
Drownin' my sorrows with bottles
Too
tracks
He grabbed her by the hair, she broke his jaw it cracked
More cops arrived, they both bloodied down by the five
Wildest niggas just smilin'
and said Jay you need to go Jay was confused of all the things he didn't know He runs Out the back door and started running toe to toe and never looked back
(Verse 1)
Everyday I get up and go construction work tryna dig out the hole
Multiply by 10 addition too slow
If I shoot my shot and miss then I
On a drive-by rocket ride
Caught in a storm and I'm running away
I never should have landed
Here in Flush Factory
I'm swinging through the rooftop
Without any
heart by three simple vision
[The Visions:]
The first was a planet engulfed by the sea
No dry land in sight, not a mountain or tree
No rock jutted out
heart by three simple vision
[The Visions:]
The first was a planet engulfed by the sea
No dry land in sight, not a mountain or tree
No rock jutted out
If my life was a video game
It'd be in 4-D and it'd be fucking insane
I'm being unstoppable flying faster than planes
Running down the tracks
Top down, she got flew'd out (whoa)
On the back seat with the extendo (yeah)
Smokin' indoor with my jewels out (yeah)
One-twenty, I blew right by
industry, like collections of 3,000
Doors closing, antique typewriters, underwater recordings using exotic microphones, ambiances
Of binaural audio snapshots
is a lot of bullshit
got nigga running around like cheated with 9 millimeters and a full clip, ugh
I grab the hitman by his mouth
I'll ride ya, dodge
down
Bell Boy, carry this baggage out
Bell Boy, always running at someone's pleading heel
You know how I feel
Always running at someone's heel
I roll deep that's c 15
Fifteen on me and a big size 3
Don't talk to weak
Or I'll pull up in a blacked out jeep
With the ramz on me OT
I don't get
rifle
And popped every last one of them sons of bitches
Motivated like a mother by the riches, but no glitches
Got to the door, which is the right button
Trouble done sewed up the tracks
Bitches not playing like they win or get smacked
By some young niggas that's down to break a bitch
The Nickel Nut
(Yeah yeah)
Counting up my bank
She tripping out on my bank
(Okay!)
We Got London on da Track
I gots lots of haters
I spend sheets of paper
I need
thing is follow your passions ally it's not a truce what you need to follow instead is your skill set and you'll find this out by talking to your friends
Born in the days of a criminal
Runnin' from the cops and can't
Let 'em see me so I'm hopin' out the Benz
It's time to let the valet step
Gotta make my
had a bite in three days
Well, I knew what he meant
But just to be funny, I took a big bite out of his jugular vein
And he's yellin' and screamin'
like it's your birthday
I'll meet you halfway
This be Tame and D Day
Too many brothers getting blown away
I breathe for you
Three-fifths red white
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